Family
by Dewey'sGirl
Summary: A short oneshot that came to me while performing at a skating competetion one day, waiting for my dad, who was running late as usual! Anyway. It's more than that, but hard to explain... read it and decide for yourself.


Ok, here's my latest story. It's a follow on from the still uncompleted 'recovery'. I had this sitting in my mind, and it had to come out. Consider it a peace offering; I _have_ written the second chapter of 'recovery', but I can't figure out how to post it as a new chapter, not a new story. When I figure it out, I'll post it, but if anyone wants to help me...

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The little girl flitted to her place on stage, front and centre. She was the prima ballerina, but that was not why she was so excited. Her father had promised he'd come this time. She had worked so hard for the honour of prima, and he had been so proud. She was sure he would come; yes he had promised previously and never shown up, but she was not a lowly chorus member this time- she was the star, and therefore he would not be wasting his time to come, as he would have been any other time she had performed. No, she was sure that he would come. 

She carefully checked herself; she had to be perfect for her debut as a star, perfect for the first time her father saw her dance. She smoothed her rose coloured tutu, and checked that the ribbons on her ballet shoes were tied tightly. She wore new make up, and had been careful not to smudge it, especially the new lipstick, carefully chosen to complement the tutu and her skin tone. She looked around anxiously, but there was no where to check her reflection. She would just have to hope that she's been careful enough. She gently patted her hair, and checked that the silver tiara was still pinned tightly into her dark curls.

The curtain rose, and the bright spot light fell upon her. She squinted as her eyes searched the audience, smiling all the while; she could not perform substandard, it would have been simply unacceptable, she had to smile for her father. The music started, and she started to dance. She danced her heart out for her father, but by the time the music faded and she slowly lowered herself into a curtsy, the smile was false and her eyes were empty. She ran off the stage as quickly as she could, shrugged off her dance teacher's sympathetic attempt at a hug, and tore her dress in her haste to remove it. Only later, alone, unseen did she cry. For her father had yet again let her down.

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The little girl had grown up now, and the ballet music was played for her dinner guests on the CD player in her lounge room. In the kitchen, alone, preparing the meal, she could not help but remember the recital, the steps that she had danced so long ago and half a world away. She laid down the knife, and completely forgot herself. Once again she danced her heart out, not as well polished or practised as it had been the first time, but with a fire and passion that had been missing then. This time, she was dancing for herself.

She did not notice her audience, standing silently in the doorway to her kitchen, until the music stopped and she stood up out of her elaborate bow.

Tony whistled. "Not bad Delilah. There's no end to your secret talents, is there?" Ducky clapped. "Brava, my dear, Brava. Simply stunning. I haven't seen such beautiful dancing in… well, a long time. Worthy of Giselle!" Abby bounced around the kitchen's polished floorboards, spinning. "Can you show me that one foot twirly thing? It looked like fun!" McGee just said "wow." Ziva blushed scarlet, and turned back to chopping vegetables. "It wasn't that impressive, they're exaggerating", she murmured to herself as they all returned to the dining room, Abby still spinning. "That's not the point", said an equally quiet voice behind her. She turned her face slightly to see Gibbs out of the corner of her eye. "We're your family, and we're proud of anything and everything you do." He kissed her gently on the temple. "It's our job to over exaggerate". He joined the others in the living room, laving a stunned and tearful Ziva standing with a surprised hand on her temple.

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I really wanted to bring out how Ziva's upbringing has contributed to the emotionally distant,cold person she seems at times, and how that makes it difficult to see herself as a member of the team and the family at times. I don't think I did it justice. anyone else who thinks they can do better is welcome to it, but please let me know before you do anything to my imperfect baby!!!

Oh, I may have figured out that new chapter thingy...


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